Cave of Forgotten Dreams

Cave of Forgotten Dreams is Werner Herzog's new film about Chauvet Cave, which contains the oldest known paintings, dated at around 32,000 years old—twice as old as those at Lascaux. This film was shot in 3-D, making this my first 3-D film experience (not counting the old ones with the blue and red film glasses). And having seen it this way, it's hard for me to imagine not seeing it in 3-D. In a normal 2-D projection, things just become big. With this 3-D technology, things appear close. This is significant. As a result, close-up shots of the cave interior have a much stronger sense of touch, which seems integral to this project. Since very, very few people will ever experience these paintings in person, this may be the only way we'll ever see them, and this makes the 3-D component very important in my mind.

Having said this, there are times when the 3-D effect falls short, and things feel like they're spatially confused, even inverted—some moments when the researchers were being interviewed in the cave come to mind. I don't know if this was a glitch in the filming or in the editing. However, for most of the film, and thankfully in all the moments where it seemed to really matter, like slow-panning close-ups of the cave interior, it was utterly successful and captivating.

Herzog's exploration of these paintings lead him to the eccentric characters associated with the cave, a look at other artwork from the same era (Venus of Willendorf and similar statuettes found elsewhere in Europe) and even thoughts on shadow play. There was a moment in the film which completely shifted gears from the ancient paintings to a clip of Fred Astaire dancing with his shadows. But this is an interesting metaphor as the film crew aim their own dancing lights in the cave—as Astaire's shadows dance independently of the dancer himself, the mysteries of the cave paintings cannot be known by our attempts to illuminate. They take on a life of their own.

The paintings are extraordinary. The undulating cave walls, as a working surface, are already charged with energy and movement. Added to this are layers of animal scratches, human scratches, rhythms of line and blending of charcoal (the primary pigment) with what appears to be chalk. The images themselves radiate movement through the use of repetition and rhythm, which I found fascinating (see the rhino horns below).

This is an imperfect film to be sure, but the impressions from this experience will not leave me anytime soon.

Some Drawings and Thoughts

Here's a few drawings I've done this year (below).

A few things seem to be converging with my work, my thinking and my upcoming Australia trip. I've frequently thought that my work is as much about my internal world as the external, natural world. I'm interested in this relationship, not just between the external and internal, but the specifically external natural world and how my relationship to it affects my psychology. Until recently, I never gave much thought to whom else might have investigated this issue. But I finally did wonder about this and happened upon Paul Shepard, who is considered one of the founders of a field called ecopsychology, which is still very mysterious to me. His most influential book is Nature and Madness. The fundamental theme behind his writing is our alienation from nature and its psychological impact. I'm sure I'll be revisiting this in greater detail in the future.

Australia

This is the first of many posts over the next few months about my upcoming trip to Australia, where I will be joining some alumni of UNM's Land Arts program and its creator Bill Gilbert as guest artists for the Australia National University's School of Art Field Study program. This program was created and developed by John Reid through the Engaging Visions Research Project. Our travels will focus on two primary locations: a) the Far South Coast of New South Wales, centered around the town of Eden and b) Calperum Station, Riverland Biosphere Reserve, South Australia, north of Renmark.

The map below shows the 85 Biogeographic regions of Australia. We will be in A) Southeast Corner (Eden) and B) Murray Darling Basin (Calperum Station)

The passages below are quoted from ANU's Engaging Visions website:

The goal of the Engaging Visions Research Project was to configure a model procedure for visual artists to participate in, and/or engage with, Murray Darling Basin catchment communities to help address environmental concerns.

The subject of the Engaging Visions Research Project was an established ANU School of Art program called Field Studies. During a Field Studies program artists participate in a series of field trips to locations of artistic inspiration while interacting with and learning from communities in the area. Artworks generated through this experience are exhibited in the local community.

The Field Studies program was convened and coordinated by the Environment Studio at the ANU School of Art. The research evaluation component of Engaging Visions was conceived and conducted by the Australian National Centre for the Public Awareness of Science at the ANU.

This research project was undertaken from 2007 to 2010. It focused on four Field Studies programs in the Murray Darling Basin: St George (Queensland 2007), Tumut (New South Wales 2008), Riverland (South Australia 2008) and Benalla (Victoria 2009).

Ai Weiwei Sit-In and Related Thoughts

Ai Weiwei at the Tate

 

Earlier today I participated in a protest against Ai Weiwei's arrest and detention in China. To provide a little background of the situation, here's a link to the Frontline profile of Ai, filmed before his arrest. 

The protests of today occurred in many other cities all over the world. Participants were asked to bring chairs and sit in front of Chinese embassies in peaceful protest. In San Francisco, Ai is represented by Haines Gallery, who organized the San Francisco protest.

The reason for this post is not to comment on the clear injustices of the arrest and detention of Ai, nor to discuss the shear courage and inspiration of Ai's work. What made the strongest impression on me was that this happening to a living, breathing human being (hopefully this is still the case). Not an artist, not a political activist. A human being. How differently would I have felt if this were happening to a blood relative? Part of the reason this made such an impact on me was because of how slow I came to this realization. It was not until the near end of the protest and we were asked to stand for one minute in silence. It finally hit me when I observed Cheryl Haines, director of the Haines Gallery, overcome with emotion at the situation.

Although I've been following this story from early on, it wasn't REAL for me until today. The image below is a bowl of sunflower seeds with a picture of Ai from today's protest. Here's more information about Ai Weiwei and the protests from NPR.

Being More

I would like my work to be a part of something larger, but what would that something be? This is a complicated question for me, because I've always tried to be engaged in a search for purpose. So much so that I wouldn't do something without some idea of its purpose or relevance. This means that there's a lot I convinced myself not to do. Sometimes purpose isn't immediately apparent, but this doesn't mean those things are value-less. Sometimes "purpose" in my mind was really an obligation to fulfill expectations of what artists do and who they are. I would defer my desires for what I thought had purpose. This is no way to be or to make art. It does not benefit others to keep your will to freedom at bay, even if this doesn't necessarily make sense.

Japan Tsunami 2011

Japan Tsunami 2011

I remember just after I started grad school at the University of New Mexico, 9/11 happened. Of course, there was a lot of group discussion about this. Some felt that it suddenly seemed trivial to be making art objects and images. What would these really do in the grand scheme of things? A good question, and one that no one can answer for anyone else. I'm really glad that there are people who make political and social-based art, but I'm equally glad for artists like Bruce Nauman and Richard Tuttle, whose work deals with, among other things, the absurd, the banal and the quirky.

Richard Tuttle

Michael McConnell at Braunstein/Quay

The work in Michael McConnell's recent show at Braunstein/Quay Gallery seems to continue his exploration of childhood innocence, even while treading on typically grown-up ground. Walking through the show, I thought about his non-traditional use of taxidermy forms, the plastic structures over which animal skins are stretched. These forms were not used to celebrate a violent conquest of a life taken in sport, but felt playful. This is an even stranger effect given that all the animals were bound in some way -- tied to trees, branches or stakes in the ground -- which provided the theme and title of the show, "Tethered." While not completely free from thoughts about mankind's transgressions against the wilderness and its animal inhabitants, this work somehow also made me think about animals in my childhood stories, animals of myth and folly that were more like us than any real wild animal. 

You can see more of Michael McConnell's work on his website.

 

blake, w

The Primeval Giants Sunk in the Soil